


Perplexity of Love

by Liars



Series: Maëlys de Sardet [4]
Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Feels, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Older Man/Younger Woman, One-Sided Attraction, Onesided Constantin d'Orsay/de Sardet, Past Relationship(s), Self-Doubt, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2020-11-23 20:21:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liars/pseuds/Liars
Summary: Mostly chronological retelling of de Sardet and Kurt's life together. There are SPOILERS.





	1. I'll Protect You

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is longer, but I will break up later chapters into shorter tidbits. Unedited, as usual. Not sure about the time frame of posting yet.

The first time he saw her, their fates became intertwined, and he had wondered if it had never happened, would his life be any better than it was now? Hers undoubtably would have ended far too soon, a short young girl the age of ten, slim like a young boy with long and curly dark tresses and bright green eyes that glimmered with her mischievous and uninhibited smile. A youth that did not deserve to die when she had so much promise. It almost made him guilty to even think about what his life would be like now without her because he knew that without him, she’d likely be dead or in worse standings that he knew some children fell into when captured by miscreants. Something ensured his continued presence in her life, and he tried to recall just why he continued following after her all these years.

_An odd flash of green caught his eye in the streets, and for some reason, he super fixated on it. At first glance she had seemed like a forest nymph, or better yet a pixie with a glint in her eye. The strange forest green mark that ran down her neck and matched her eerie and supernatural eyes was what kept his eyes on her despite the urgent message in his hands. He was to have his pay docked if he was but a moment late, yet something about her made him linger and pause in his errand. It was odd that a child was running amock down the streets, especially as the sun set and the markets closed, and - Heavens, did she just go into an alleyway? Was this kid that stupid? Serene wasn’t a particularly dangerous place, but as a hub of trade, there were often some unsavory sorts. Before he knew it, he was following her, tailing after some stupid little punk who seemed intent on getting herself kidnapped or killed. The streets were busy so he had to weave his way through people, occasionally bumping shoulder and muttering excuses as he followed the idiotic punk, and somehow she always seemed ten steps ahead of him, running through streets and alleyways. It wasn’t until she had slipped into another empty alleyway that he realized that there was another with her. Another child, young but tall and blond boy not much older than her skipping ahead, fifteen to twenty paces ahead of her. Every turn the boy took, the girl followed, and he followed her in turn. _

_ The people he had to weave through were thinning, out, and it was easier to get through the streets, but the two seemed to continue to go to less populated streets and further into the seedier part of the city. Ironically, towards the same place he was ordered to deliver a message to. It was oddly coincidental, but before he could consider the weirdness of the situation his pants got caught on a broken crate in an alleyway. The distraction paused him for but a moment, cursing and attempting to free the threads from a nail head sticking out without tearing the pants. He didn’t want to buy a new pair, and if he showed up to the meetup point looking less than prepared, he’d get a scolding. But all thoughts of his pants disappeared when he heard scream._

_ He ripped his pant leg free, and dashed out of the alleyway to evaluate the situation. The streets were empty, save the girl he was following, but she looked panicked. Like a rabbit, she flew from her spot, intent on following the boy that was no longer in front of her, and he followed as well, with a worrying thought, hand itching towards his sword belt. She pulled a corner, dashing into an alleyway, when he heard conversation start._

_“Well, well, well. They said a boy would be running around the streets here, but they never said anything about you, sweetheart.”_

_“Let him go! Or I swear I’ll! I’ll!”_

_“You’ll what, runt? Run to your mummy and cry?”_

_He heard a smack, then laughter, then two cries and scuffling._

_“Ouch! This little bitch is crazy! Gret, grab her.”_

_ He finally pulled round, sword drawn to see a sight that would be comical if not for the dangers the young ones faced. There were two men there darkly dressed, one heavier than the other significantly. The larger of the two held the boy, golden haired and blue eyed, eyes full of fear. The other was scrawny and almost bonelike, chasing after the girl he was watching earlier, who was dashing around and evading a lot easier than what she was before, but she didn’t have the hindsight to realize that the skinny one was slowly corralling her into a corner. First things first, he walked up to the larger man holding the boy, he was so distracted he didn’t even notice his approach. Slitting his throat was easy enough, but that had the boy screaming and scrambling away from both the dying man and himself, redirecting the remaining miscreant’s attention towards him and away from the girl. He had a wickedly sharp dirk, and a face full of pock marks and rotten teeth. While he had the advantage of a longer reach because of his sword, the other man was calculated. His eyes were flinty, and he didn’t seem the slightest bit scared of the prospects of facing one of the coins guard. Kurt lunged, sword flashing, but the other man simply ducked, then dove, trying to jab at him. Redirecting the blow was a bit of a twister, his arms whipped back to his body before angling upward and bringing the sword parallel to his legs with one hand, and then pushing away the other man’s blade. It was sloppy at best, but he hadn’t expected the man to dive so quickly and assuredly. They both backed off for a moment, pacing around one another and evaluating. _

_A voice caught his attention and made him turn his head, “Constantin! Find a guard! Go,” and his eyes snapped to the young girl looking at the boy. The golden haired child looked absolutely frightened, but in good sense, he followed orders and ran. The girl, mouth bloody, stood in the corner of the alley, no way of getting past the dangerous man, and watched both of them hesitantly. _

_ It wasn’t an intentional distraction, but it drew his attention away for just long enough for the man to sneak within his guard. Due to his lack of focus, he received a glancing blow to his right arm, slicing through the padding and into the skin beneath. He jumped backward once more, sword swinging wide stupidly, but catching the bastard unaware, banging against the man’s vambraces and knocked him off balance. His arm burned like hellfire, but he could still hold his sword, so he knew it wasn’t that bad, and he rushed the man once more, intent on finishing this sooner rather than later. Once more the nimble bastard dodged to the side though, but instead of stabbing at him once more, he jabbed his elbow into his wounded arm, and the sword dropped out of his hands. The sharp dirk was at his throat in a moment, and a rotten grin shimmered on the scrawny man’s face. In the next few moments, Kurt thought his life was over, all for some little child who was too stupid to run around in alleyways, but as soon as the blade kissed his throat, the villain yowled and dropped the knife, falling to his knees. The little girl, scrawny and little, dashed backwards with bloody hands, ignoring the swings of the fallen man, while Kurt grabbed his sword and put it into his belly. At the impact the man froze then groaned, rolling to his side carefully as though if he didn’t disturb it he wouldn’t die, but Kurt tugged, ripping outward, and the smell of piss, blood, and the contents of the man’s innards wafted through his nose. The man gasped for breaths, trying to crawl away, but Kurt staggered to his feet and finished the job. The little girl had retreated into the corner, staring at him with suspicious eyes, hand cradled in front of her. Upon further inspection, the little spitfire had shoved a broken piece of glass in the back of the man’s left knee, cutting herself in the process, but successfully saving his life and in turn her own as well. The opposite side of her face was red and already starting to swell, an imprint of a hand mark painted on her skin. Every step he took toward her, though, she curled into herself backing further into the corner, teeth bared like a rabid dog. He reconsidered his approach, grasping at his dripping arm, then leaning back and crouching. He ripped a piece of cloth from his already ripped pants, then tied it hastily around his arm._

_“I mean you no harm. I’m a lieutenant of the Coins Guard. My name is Kurt, what’s yours?”_

_She looked hesitant, but something about what he said pacify her slightly. “Ma_ _ëlys, but no one calls me that. They call me, de Sardet, or other things… Sometimes,” her voice trailed off._

_He decidedly didn’t touch upon the ‘other things’ as her voice quieted in the end, “May-lees, a pretty name for a pretty girl.”_

_“My-Al-Leeze! But just call me Day-Sar-day.”_

_“Day-Sar-dett,” He could see the frustration in her brow, children were so easy to read._

_The more irritated she seemed, the less suspicious of him she was, “It doesn’t matter!”_

_“Joking, de Sardet, joking. Now the frightened little brat, assuming he listened, will be back any minute with more of the guard, and they should be able to handle you from here. Then I’ll be on my way, and you won’t have to see my ugly mug again.”_

_She sounded indignant, “Constantin isn’t a brat! He’s a prince! The prince! He can do whatever he pleases.”_

_“A prince,” it took a moment, then it all came rushing to his head. “Constantin D’Orsay. Princess de Sardet. Princess de Sardet’s little girl? The heir and the spare of Serene are prancing about in the night on the streets?!” _

_ On the bright side, this captain could hardly be angry that he didn’t deliver his message since he saved the Prince’s son and niece, however there were some dangers in the spotlight. His eyes flickered to De Sardet’s bloody hands, she wasn’t exactly in pristine shape, but they wouldn’t blame that on him, right? Nobles weren’t exactly the most reasonable, especially when it came to their children._

_“The air and the spare? What does that mean?”_

_He cursed himself for saying such a thing, “Nothing, your excellency. Something just easier than saying, the prince and his cousin. How are your hands?”_

_She huffed, “De Sardet! Call me de Sardet!”_

_He could feel the headache coming along. Were all children this annoying? “Little princess de Sardet, how are your hands?”_

_She looked confused for a moment, but after looking down at them, she seemed to realize then flinch “They hurt now. He was going to hurt you too though. He already did hurt you, when I yelled at Constantin. Did I do something wrong?” Her eyes began to drift towards the bodies, and purely on instinct and panic, he stood abruptly and place himself between the body and her._

_“No, no, no, child! Ma_ _ëlys, you didn’t do anything wrong. You protected yourself, and you helped me. You did what needed to be done.”_

_He could see the panic in her eyes, the rising distress, “I hurt him though!”_

_“You did hurt him, but you need to understand that if you didn’t, he would have hurt you and your cousin a lot more. Sometimes, child, you have to hurt bad people to save the good ones. Your cousin is good right? You are good, aren’t you?”_

_“Constantin is good, he gives me apples and sweets. Mummy tells me I am a good good as well.. Are you good too, Kurt?”_

_For once in his life, he appreciated the short and almost nonexistent attention span of children, “I try to be, Ma_ _ëlys.”_

_“Then we did a good thing, hurting the bad person.”_

_The way she said it sounded wrong, almost like she was too impressionable and could take the words to heart, and he found himself backtracking, “In this instance, yes, but one does not always have to hurt someone who does something bad. There are other ways to correct them, less violent ways.”_

_“Like timeouts! Constantin is always on time out!”_

_This Constantin kid seemed like a bad influence, considering he was leading this parade through the city slums and was always in trouble, but he found himself agreeing just for the sake of it, “Yes, timeouts are very important.”_

_As if on cue, he heard the sound of boots rushing down the streets. The little nymph threw herself behind him as he turned to confront the newcomers. She looked cautiously around him attempting to see who was about to turn the corner, and he tried to offer what little comfort he could, “I’ll protect you. Don’t worry, Ma_ _ëlys.”_

_ Thankfully it wasn’t more assailants, but the guards, and sure enough, behind the Coins Guard soldiers, there was the blond boy, red faced from crying. The captain he was supposed to deliver the message to stood in front of the formation, assessing the situation of the bodies before his eyes fell upon his injured lieutenant. Kurt stood to attention, saluting despite the fiery pain that he felt when jostling his injured arm, but his salute was waved off. The princess slipped from behind him after he relaxed, reuniting with her cousin._

_“Report what happened, soldier.”_

_“On my way to deliver this message, sir, I happened upon an altercation between these children and two men. One was holding Prince Constantin D’Orsay and the other was attempting to capture Princess de Sardet,” he was thankful she was too distracted to correct him, “I eliminated the immediate threat, freeing the young prince and then proceeded to address the other threat. There was a struggle, both myself and the princess were injured, but I dispatched the other individual. Unfortunately, I do not know what the men’s intentions were.”_

_“The princess is injured, Ortha! Inspect her, as we will need to bring her back. Lieutenant, return to the barracks and tend to your injury there.”_

_One of the female soldiers peeled from the ranks and approached the two little royals. He nodded, and saluted, but then there was little arms wrapped around one of his legs. The little nymph, de Sardet, had grabbed him and stared up at him with pleading eyes. She had dodged the female soldier and had run to him._

_“Kurt, please come with us. I’m scared! I don’t know these people.”_

_His captain coughed, and Kurt look to him then back to the princess and her cousin staring at them from afar, shivering and tired looking. They were children, scared and in shock, and it seemed distrusting after everything that occurred. His arm burned, he could feel the blood weeping from it slowly, it had already soaked the piece of cloth he had used to wrap it, and he couldn’t help but inspect her own wounds, bleeding hands and swollen face._

_He said the words before he could even think about it, “May I accompany you, captain? To finish the job?”_

_The other man seemed contemplative for a moment, before he motioned to Ortha to hand him something. A glass vial and a couple bandages came flying his way which he caught. “It’s your choice, lieutenant.”_

_“Com’ere, your excellency,” he muttered, motioning to the boy. As Constantin slid forward, he knelt down to inspect de Sardet’s hands. The wounds were not deep, but were clean and bled freely. “I am going to put some medicine on those hands, m’lady, it will sting.” De Sardet nodded, hesitantly giving him her hands, and he poured the poultice on them, before wrapping them hastily. She flinched at each and every movement but bore it without a word of complaint. Her cousin had joined her at her side, inspecting him intently, and making him uncomfortable with the weight of his gaze. It was hard to peg what the prince was thinking, but since he didn’t protest or complain, he continued the task at hand. Tying the last bandage, he dropped her hands, and her cousin was grabbing at her again, hugging her close. She returned it, pulling him to her side. It was almost comical that the little girl was comforting her cousin who was a head taller than her, but it had already become apparent that the little girl was made a mettle most weren’t. Surprisingly, one of her injured little hands reached out to him, a tentative smile on her lips, and he grasped it carefully, holding her fingers more than her hand. “I’ll protect you.”_

She was so young then, so vulnerable, yet so strong. She had tugged him along from the very first look, he realized, twisting him to follow her. He was flabbergasted when he was promoted as the new master of arms just a week after the event. Undoubtably, his involvement with the rescue ensured a reward, but he had not expected to become the youngest master of arms and guardian of the children. Though he never could convince her to tell him why, he suspected she had convinced her mother that he was both Constantin and her infallible savior, and she was only comfortable with him. Princess de Sardet was weak to her child’s whims, thus as a youth, he became the little princess’ shadow, teacher, and protector. Her and Constantin were his only consistent companions for fifteen years, almost family, except there would always be a wall between him and them. A constant reminder that he was just hired help that could be replaced at any moment and time. Thus when he was given the choice to follow both Constantin and de Sardet embarked on their journey to the island of Teer Fradee, he was hesitant. It was his chance to finally be free of them, his little students that he cared for, but felt burdened by. Free to move on and establish roots elsewhere with other people. Guilt racked his soul though, while they had grown, there was still much for them to learn, and Teer Fradee was a dangerous unknown. Constantin would likely face no immediate threats because of his position, but Maëlys would be inevitably thrust into the brunt of the wreckage in hopes of piecing together the shambles. Could he let her go alone? Abandon her after all this time?


	2. The Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and Constantin fight, physically and verbally. But about what exactly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited as usual and shorter.

She hadn’t approached him since his training last week, and he had the aching feeling that somehow she knew his doubts. Constantin was seemingly oblivious, as usual, of his dangling on the precipice, and when he came from his lesson with Mr. de Courcillon today, the young prince was brash, impatient, and rude as always, if not even more than usual. The callousness of the younger man made him almost believe that he didn’t want him around. It was a comfort to believe that maybe he wouldn’t be missed, because then he could move on with life guilt free.

He could taste freedom on his lips and yearned, but the longer he thought about it, the more it didn’t seem to make sense. What would he do with his freedom? Of course, he would still be a captain in the Coin Guard, and would be compelled to go wherever they stationed him, but what would he do with all his time? He had only every really knew the life of being a soldier, guardian, and then a teacher. Could he be anything else, or would he be restrained to those roles for the rest of his life? He enjoyed teaching, recalling all those times de Sardet and Constantin, though the former more often than the later, brightened when they finally achieved the correct posture and stance. Children were easily amused and often avid learners, and he had learned to be gentle with them when needed, but strict enough to ensure they were learning from their mistakes and not building on them. The more thought he poured into the idea, the more he realized there were things he wanted to do and have before he died. He wanted to teach, wanted to travel for a time and experience what the world had to offer, wanted to be able to settle down with a sweet woman, and wanted to build the family he never had. It was shocking to think he never considered what he really wanted in life, and disheartening to think that what he wanted was the opposite of what was being asked of him. He had made a promise to himself after the first night that monster snuck into his room when he was a recruit that he would protect those he had taken under his wing. He restated that promise to the once little de Sardet, and once again to her and Constantin when he became the master of arms, but for how long was he to protect them and at what cost? Was he to give up all his dreams for the sake of two people who could easily replace him? When was it time to let them go and move on?

The prince was ever perceptive in times one needed ignorance, and aloof in important matters, and he complained between pants, “Dear lord, man, when you said we going to practice on my defense, I didn’t think you’d try to have me incapacitated if I failed. You must really not want us to leave. You could have just said so”

He pulled back a moment, to give the boy a breather, and consider his words carefully, “Apologies, your excellency, but you sail into the unknown and an enemy won’t wait because you’re tired.”

“It’s not that dangerous out there, Kurt, at least to the part we shall go. We’ve already established New Serene, otherwise the prince would never send his precious puppet and his favorite niece.” There wasn’t a hint of resentment the sentence which was surprising, for a moment, until the sneaky bastard turned on him and jabbed at him with his sword as he spoke, “Talking about his favorite niece, and my dear cousin, have you seen her as of late?”

“I have not. I don’t think she wishes to see me.”

“I sincerely doubt that, but no matter, she is likely just busy handling the necessary work for our leave. You know, the one you may or may not go on. Have you decided yet? You know she has to inform the Nauts who she will and won’t be taking, and it is ever rude to make her and them both wait.”

The news took him by surprise, but he should have known. “She’s handling all of that herself?” His guard faltered after his words, and Constantin played it to his advantage, three rapid jabs came bustling past his sword, they missed but the fact that the normally wobbly prince got the chance to strike him was telling.

“Indeed, ever the flawless legate. She hasn’t pressured you for the inconvenience you are putting both on her and the sailors which means she’s intent on giving you every opportunity to choose because she cares, you dolt,” Constantin swung at his head with his foil despite the fact the foil was primarily a thrusting sword, and he ducked, unsure of what to do. He should have corrected the younger man’s posture, reprimanded him at the swing that left his right side open, but he was flabbergasted that she had put the plans on hold for him and his answer. The young prince proceeded to continue his sloppy but oddly determined assault. Guilt ran through his gut, and Constantin successfully stabbed him right on his bicep above his elbow, the pain informing him that he’d have quite the bruise for his negligence. Both pulled back, panting, with the prince grinning almost cruelly, “You’re a blind fool, Kurt.”

“Ironic coming from one such as you,” his response was acidic, but the young prince took no offense which was unlike him.

“If I had the chance, I would take it,” came the lecturing tone.

“You had your chance, and you did. You won, Constantin. A first.”

“You really are daft, aren’t you old man? I’ve won nothing. I never will.” And maybe he was daft because he couldn’t understand just what the young prince meant as he shook his blond golden mane in irritation.

“I don’t understand, Constantin,” he sputtered, mind spinning.

The young man stared at him with a look of disgust, something completely and utterly foreign on his face, “Of course you don’t. It’s completely unfair. You shouldn’t come with us, it would be for the best.”

To hear such words from a naïve boy, he couldn’t help but spit back, “You don’t know that, Constantin. You both will need me.”

The younger man scowled something fierce, anger morphing his usually handsome face, “If that is so, why are you hesitating then? You like playing with people’s feelings, don’t you? Does it make you feel important?”

“I’m not playing with anyone’s feelings, boy! I am just trying to figure out what will be best for everyone. Not everyone is so keen on running head first into the unknown.”

Constantin glowered at him, throwing his foil at him handle first, “I’ve had enough. Talking to you is like talking to a dog and expecting it to understand.”

He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks in anger, his lips pulling back into a snarl, but the young prince was already stalking off, likely to go visit his cousin and complain to her. The idea had his head spinning. De Sardet had the habit of overindulging the young golden prince, bending over backwards to appease him. Sometimes it felt as though her entire existence revolved around him, which was probably why the both the princes favored her so. Now he’d likely have to deal with a soft but firm lecture from her about Constantin’s fragile feelings and emotions when he didn't even do anything wrong! To think he helped raise these children, only to be scolded by them now. But then again maybe he did need a lecture, for weeks he had tip toed around the idea, convincing himself one way then changing his mind to the other; Constantin wasn’t wrong when he said he was being unfair. Yet there were still questions he needed answers to, and he had the idea of who to find them from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :)


	3. Too Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pity party for de Sardet. Kurt's existence makes her want to curl into herself and cry most of the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update day. I had a few chapters split up, and I know I should wait, but I get too excited to post. If it isn't obvious yet, I love Constantin... Unedited.

The whole idea of leaving Serene was nerve wracking to her, so she found herself drinking at the bar to try and loose some of the anxiety before continuing about her day and setting everything into stone. Constantin waited on baited breath, excited beyond belief to leave the confines of his parents and the surrounding court, but she had a lot more to lose than to gain. Her mother was sick and dying and leaving to Teer Fradee would guarantee that she would not be there for her last moments; there were friends she had here that she would likely never see again; and it meant she would be, after Constantin, the main conductor of New Serene and responsible for finding the cure to malichor. It meant more responsibility with few benefits and many costs, but she could hardly let Constantin go alone or give her mother the idea that she wasn’t the self sacrificing angel that the sick princess thought she was. Asking to stay would only hurt the two, plus it would create suspicion within the kingdom. There were those who suggested she usurp the throne though she had no interest, and staying at the capital while her cousin left would only garner more support for the idea. It was unfair that she had to go, unfair she didn’t have much of a say, but it was her lot in life, and she understood duty, even at the cost of her own freedom. Thus she was handling the necessary arrangements even though she despised the entire idea. There was one thing that also turned her stomach and worried at her mind, almost as much as all the other prospects. The prince had offered Kurt the option to join them on their journey, but he had yet to accept.

Her relationship with Kurt was a confusing one, but only due to her own emotions. He was a friend and a mentor, yet she had always yearned for more. He understood her more than anyone else she had ever known, more than her mother or even her beloved Constantin. He knew her and didn’t judge her for even her weakest moments. Thus she wanted to know him just as well. Everything about him intrigued her from his prickly demeanor hiding his soft and kind soul to his obsession with honor and loyalty that was so unlike even the noblest nobles she knew. Of course, there were other things that drew her to him like a moth to a flame, she wasn’t blind to his attractive masculine features, but they were simply side benefits to his person. But her infatuation only guaranteed her misery, however, as the same things she loved about him prevented him from ever seeing her as she wanted to be seen.

The realization of the futility of her situation came to her early in life. It was infuriating and heartbreaking, and she had thrown herself into work and other relationships to cope. There was one whom she thought that maybe she could grow to love, Nadir, the son of the past Bridge Alliance ambassador, whom she studied with for a time. He was similar to Constantin, in a sense, whimsical and free spirited, but he had such a strong sense of compassion for people that swept her away and had her heart a flutter. They were younger then when things were simpler, teens intent on being independent at any costs, and while Constantin was partying and whoring his way around, she was rebelling in her own little way. She had never meant to get involved with Nadir, in fact, it was just another moment of weakness that turned into something good. She had been heartbroken at the time, seeing her hero and love charm one of the kitchen cooks into bed. It was the first time she recognized Kurt as just a man and not a paragon of virtue, and the realization had struck her cold. At first that was the only thing she could think of, and the remainder of her childlike innocence dissipated with her perfect and idealized perception of him. But in the wake of reality, it only seemed natural then that jealousy snuck its way into her heart. The idea that she couldn’t have him when others could broke into her, decimated her self esteem, and brought her to an all time low.

Torn to shreds, and she had turned to Nadir, the kind soul and dear friend, who held her as she cried and comforted her without question. He didn’t try to make her laugh, or lull her into some fantasy, he was just there for her. After that, she lured him into her bed despite his reluctance of taking advantage of her due to her emotional state. From that point on, however, they were near inseparable. He was her safe haven, and she began to avoid Kurt altogether with the excuse of bettering international relations and furthering her studies in the medical arts. In retrospect, she had used her friend to make herself feel better and avoid the real problem, but she could hardly regret it when the act helped strengthen her resolve and character. It was a pity that his mother, the ambassador, was forced to relocate for reasons never quite explained to her, and not from lack of trying to know. That ordeal also broke her heart all over again, but then she had no one to piece it together. Constantin tried his best, dragging her out and trying to distract her from the pain, but it often led to her snapping at him rudely. Something that Constantin never deserved, considering he was a literal saint.

The drink, she realized, was making her mopey and oversentimental, so she told herself to stop after she was done with this last cup. Then it was the next drink, and the drink after that, and eventually she recognized that telling oneself to do something was not the same as actually intending to do it, so she dropped the pretenses and stuck to her cups. Thankfully, she had the hindsight to refrain from anything particularly strong, so she wasn’t crying into the swill, but it was enough to draw her into an introspective and somber mood. A mood she was swiftly shaken from when a hand landed on her shoulder. If she was anymore inebriated, such a touch could result in a wide variety of responses. The grip felt familiar though, so she wasn’t keen on knocking their teeth out just yet, but there were always the other more tantalizing options. She raised her cup in greeting without looking behind, because if she did see him she really may just cry which would be completely and utterly embarrassing.

“Kurt.”

“Green Blood, day drinking doesn’t become you.”

“I was just seeing what fun Constantin has been having without me for all these years. I don’t really see the appeal, I guess,” she mumbled as she raised the glass to her lips once more.

A hand intercepted it carefully, stealing it from her hand, “It seems you’ve had quite the amount to drink as it is, why continue if you don’t care for it?”

She huffed, hand dropped to the table to join the other one, but didn’t turn to meet his eyes, “Oh, the innkeeper just kept supplying, and it seemed a shame to waste it.”

“Waste this disgusting poison?” Thankfully he said it quiet enough to not displease the innkeeper.

“You can’t call it that when you’ve willingly drank it too.” She didn’t want to stare at him, didn’t want to think those thoughts that would inevitably end with anger or sadness, didn’t want to say the words that would push him one way or another. He seemed to sense her foul mood though, and they slipped into an awkward silence. Around them, the world seemed to move forward, people playing cards, eating, and laughing. Her eyes drug to her side opposite of him, watching the setting around them. She could feel the burn of his gaze on her as he waited for her to say something, and her skin began to itch despite the calm demeanor she exuded. For a moment, she was able to pretend herself capable of ignoring it, but after a while she began to feel all too antsy. Standing up was a mistake, she embarrassingly swayed on her feet, and he was there, as always, keeping her steady once more. The fact made her fists clench, and the desire to lurch away was enormous. “I need to discuss matters with the Naut Admiral, reconvene with Mr. de Courcillon and my uncle, if he has the time, then introduce myself to the fair captain who shall lead the voyage. If I am to spend time stowed away on his or her boat, I need to know what sort of person they are,” it was a list of excuses, all to get away from him, and with the tightening of his grip she knew he knew it too.

“If you really needed to do those things, why are you drinking midday in a bar?”

“I had the moment, and a little liquid courage could do me some good. The admiral is quite frightening.”

He shook his head, letting her go, “You are sounding like Constantin, now.”

“Maybe I want to be a damsel in distress for once,” came the whisper, so quiet, that he probably didn’t even hear it.

“Since you are obviously not going to see the anyone else in such a state, maybe you’ll come train with me? I reviewed some drills with Constantin earlier, and I am pleased to say he beat me for the first time.”

“A drunk sparring session, sounds like a bad idea. There must be something wrong with you then, to have let Constantin best you.”

“An odd thing for you to say. Anyway, he got under my skin.”

“I love my cousin dearly, but I am not blind to the fact sword play isn’t natural to him. How did he do so, if I may ask?”

He hesitated and redirected, “How about you explain why you are here?”

She didn’t, for a moment, consider telling him the truth, “Touché.”

They lapsed into silence again, and she mustered the courage to face him. Turning around, green met stormy grey, staring at her intently, and she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes for long so she examined his face instead. He hadn’t trimmed in quite some time, maybe since the last time they talked, and it created a thick dark shadow on the lower half of his face and upper neck unlike his usual trim and neat five o’clock shadow, where his neck was smooth are hairless and the stubble was short but noticeable enough. His eyes seemed red and dark rimmed from bags, like he hadn’t slept well. Ironic that he seemed to mess outside but was fine inside, and she was primped and well kept for the most part but emotionally dying. Something in his face implied he knew exactly how she was feeling because he took a step back and ran a hand over his stubbly face. He was going to question her, so she redirected. 

“You look worse for wear,” she shouldn’t have said it but it slipped her mouth before she could think of anything better.

“Thanks,” came the sarcastic drawl, scowl forming on his lips.

She grinned, she couldn’t help it, but then a wave of nausea hit her and she leant on the counter heavily. Tables turned quickly, both in her eyes and metaphorically, and he had the gall to laugh at her, stating, “You aren’t looking the best either, green blood. In fact, you are looking a bit more green than usual.”

“I want to vomit on your boots,” she hissed, but there was no vehemence in it at all. Another wave of nausea hit, and she swooned a bit towards him, grumbling, “Hell, I just might.”

Smartly, he took a step back, “If you ruin them, you pay for them.”

“Stingy bastard.”

“Whiny brat,” He didn’t know where it came from, but his own retort had him grinning even more.

A snarl appeared on her wild face, “Arrogant unfeeling asshole.”

“Little light weighted noble.”

She snorted unattractively, “Weak counter.”

“I had a few more up my sleeve, but I’d rather not get slapped.”

The jesting helped calm her, and maybe she was sobering up a bit, or maybe the alcohol in her system made her confident enough to face the elephant in the room, “I really do need to speak to the Admiral though.”

He took the bait, “About what?”

The words sounded foreign in her ears, “Passengers and rations for the trip to Teer Fradee.” The grin on his face dropped, and so did her stomach with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :D


	4. Dreams and Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and de Sardet bear their hearts to one another, chipping away at the walls between them to understand, but it's too much. Too risky.

“You need to know if I am going with you,” came his response after a long time.

‘_More than you know_,’ she thought. “I have put it off as long as I could, but the admiral is getting annoyed with me. I meant to give you as much time as you needed, but I do need an answer. In fact, I had every intention of seeing you today to discuss it, after well... You know.” Waving her hand at the bar as though to explain.

She tried to keep her voice as neutral as possible, like a responsible and professional legate would, but she could hear the distress seeping into her voice, and if she could he could as well. Her liquid courage was gone, and instead the alcohol seemed to only compound the horror she was feeling. His usually stormy eyes looked like a raging tempest, conflict apparent, and she felt guilty for bringing it up, but it was every bit true.

“Maëlys,” they interrupted one another, “Kurt, I-”

He paused, staring at her intently, and she felt the words leave her. It wouldn’t be fair to burden him with that before he made his decision. Wouldn’t be fair to say something she knew he couldn’t return honestly. Silence once more enveloped them. It was ridiculous, the way they tip toed around one another. Ridiculous that they couldn’t talk to each other despite how close they had gotten over the years, even simply as friends. As just friends. The idea was a gut churning thought as well as a calming one. It brought things into perspective, tempered her pain.

He went to speak again, but she held a hand up cautiously and intercepted, gathering all the courage she had, “Kurt, you have been good to me after all these years. To Constantin as well. With over a decade of your life invested into us, I can understand if you want to go live and do other things. You’ve been a dear and irreplaceable friend, a kind teacher, and I have come to think of you as family. If you so choose not to join us, I will be sad to see you go, but if that is what you want, then I shall respect your wishes. Of course, you will have the highest recommendations from both myself and my uncle to help with whatever employment you choose to pursue after.”

“I-Thank you,” came his response, and he seemed almost shocked. Maybe her little monologue was too emotional for him. He had only stayed around because it was a job after all. Either way, he didn’t say anything else, and she nodded, accepting that for her answer. It hurt, hurt so much that she was astounded she didn’t break out into tears in front of him. Her heart felt like it had been torn from her chest and stepped on before her eyes, almost worse than when she saw him walk away with the cook, hand low on her hip. To think after all the years spent together lead up to a mostly unsentimental break, not far from where it all had started, was disheartening. The room felt like it was closing in on her, and she couldn’t breath, so she slapped on a smile and went to leave with what little dignity she had left.

He interrupted her, sounding confused, “Wait, where are you going?”

Her mind spun as well, “I need to report to the admiral. She’ll be pleased, I am sure, to know that you’ve made your decision.”

“Made my decision? Green blood, I’ve hardly had a moment to consider. Please give me a second.”

She could feel the swell of hope, but she crushed it underneath her heel before it could even take flight. Hardly had a moment? She had gave him weeks to consider it! The prince, her uncle, barely gave her five minutes to process the whole ordeal before he expected her to handle all the preparations of the trip. She wasn’t given a choice on whether or not she wanted to go. And he wanted another second? The absurdity of the situation wanted to make her laugh, but she reigned it in with an iron fist. She had a duty, he didn’t. He deserved as much time as he needed, and she would have to deal with it patiently if she didn’t want to crush their tepid friendship that still had a chance. Despite the moments of nausea before, and the dizziness she felt, she almost waved her hand over for another drink as she plopped down onto her seat.

His question was like a slap to the face, “Do you even want me to go?”

Was he even listening? Was he blind? She tempered her voice carefully, “Of course I do, but its your decision. Not mine.” A voice bitterly whispered in her head, ‘_Never mine._’

“Constantin was angry with me today. He told me I shouldn’t come,” he responded quietly, neither sounding mad or sad about it.

Sometimes, she wanted to smack her dear cousin, “Constantin is always angry with you, but he doesn’t mean it, not really. Kurt, he has always looked up to you. He cares for you, in his own way. Sometimes it is just hard for him to express it.”

“I don’t know what I should do.”

He said it emotionlessly, and for the second time that day, she felt her heart break again. To her, it would be simple. She’d follow him to the ends of the earth and back if she could, if he would let her. If he asked her to stay, she would. It was so unfair to feel this way, and not even have him know.

“If it makes you feel better, you don’t have to stay there if you don’t want to. It would only be a month’s journey back, and you would never have to return. I won’t let them hold you back.” Her words seemed to bring him no comfort despite her carefully held back desperation, it seemed like he was struggling over something else, but she just couldn’t identify what. She sighed, “Well, what do you want, Kurt?” He looked frustrated, as if he couldn’t put words to it, and she found herself so inexplicably tired and not drunk enough for all of this. She didn’t want to be snappish, didn’t want to be harsh, but with so much on her head right now it was tiring to play the saint all the time. “If you don’t know, then you should stay,” came the words, and she didn’t regret them as much she probably should have.

The expression on his face was absolutely flabbergasted, “But you said you wanted me to go.”

“I did, and I do, but if the thought is so appalling, why should you? I don’t know what’s holding you back, and you won’t tell me, so what’s the point? I can’t ask you to come with us, I won’t beg. You’ve already done so much that it wouldn’t be fair otherwise, but I can tell you to stay. To live your life and be free of us. Free to do as you please for once. You deserve it,” she meant every word, steeling her heart carefully.

“I want to travel,” he said, slowly, expecting her to laugh, expecting her to judge.

Her heart ached, and her mind wandered, ‘_I do too. I want to be free of my gilded cage. Free to do as I please, but not at the cost of those I love.’ _Her actual response was significantly more neutral, “It would be the adventure of a lifetime.”

“I want to be able to teach. I enjoy helping people improve on their own natural abilities.”

The idea surprised her briefly, but she wasn’t going to let that deter him, “There are plenty of people wanting to learn all over the world.”

The next words he stated were far too embarrassing, but he felt the need to voice them, “I want to settle down eventually. I want to have a family.”

The thought made her mouth run dry. A family with Kurt. It was a dream she could never entertain, but he had put it into her head, and the idea physically hurt. The amount of effort in keeping the longing outside her voice was awe inspiring, but his eyes had a faraway look, so she knew that he wasn’t truly focusing on her enough to worry about her tone, “I- You have to take the initiative there. I can’t help with that one, but if it makes you feel better, you are like family to me. Do you have someone in mind to start it with?”

“No, but someday, yes, I hope so.”

He could hear her swallow, but he couldn’t bear to meet her eyes this once, “Then, I’m sorry, I don’t see the problem yet. You can do all those things in Teer Fradee.”

“But can I?”

Her tone quiet, hurt, “What do you want from me? Shall I beg? If that’s what you want, I will. But I don’t want to force you into anything,” she meant it in more way than one but knew that the underlying meaning would be lost to him. “If you come with us, and you feel at any moment I am withholding those dreams from you, tell me. I’ll let you go so you can pursue them, but I don’t see why you can’t do those things there.”

Again, silence overtook them, and she did whatever she could to let him think without chiming in her opinion. Did he notice she was so obviously desperate for him to go? Seconds seemed like hours, minutes like days, and she refrained from twitching on her seat too much. Eventually, her patience won out on the end, and his voice was almost too quite to hear. Almost quite enough to believe she imagined it entirely by herself, “I’ll go, green blood.”

Both her hands slammed against the table, drawing attention to them both, “You’ll what?!”

He glared at the nosy patrons staring at them until they turned away, “Tell the admiral to prepare for one more passenger. I could always use the money to pursue those dreams.”

“Ah, the money… Of course,” came her hesitant response.

“Don’t tell me after that impassioned plea that you are already regretting my presence,” he joked in his weakness.

Her heart felt raw, shredded, and bruised, so the teasing jab hurt a bit more than it usually would, “Shut your mouth. You’ve drug me through the mud long enough, and I listened and empathized with you with the patience of an angel.”

“You did, I’m sorry.”

She huffed, picking up the pieces of her dignity once more, and attempted to keep the bitterness out of her tone, “I’m not sorry. I’m happy that you have things you wish beyond just money. Few get the opportunity to chase their dreams, and I hope the best for yours.”

It seems the wrong words left her mouth, and his next words picked at her like a vulture with a carcass, “What do you dream of?”

‘_Freedom from this insanity and responsibility. Happiness for myself and my cousin. A cure for my mother. A sense of belonging. Love. You,_’ came the thoughts before she could contain them. She smiled, but it was bittersweet, “Of things I can never have.” It felt unfair to leave it at that, he expressed his vulnerabilities to her, and she closed the door to her broken and battered soul so he couldn’t even get a glimpse. Yet she knew that if she spoke in any little depth of it, it would come pouring from her mouth like flooding river, and everything they built, as fragile and shallow as it was, would come crashing down. Would he feel guilty that she’d never get the option to pursue her dreams? Would he understand. Instead of dwelling on it, she stood, suddenly a lot more sober than she was minutes ago. “It’s not that I don’t want to share. It’s just, well, they aren’t anything of real importance, bleak in comparison to yours. Why should I wish for anything more if everything I have is good already? It wouldn’t be fair. It would seem ungrateful,” the words felt more accurate the more she dwelt on them. The niece of the prince had endless resources at her fingertips, she had no right to complain. Her yearning for something more, however, left her wrought with guilt, and she wanted to escape. “I suppose I’ll see you later then. I’m off to the admiral.”

She heard him stand, for reasons unknown, likely to tell her something else or prevent her from leaving, but she fled out the door before he even had the chance. He bore his heart to her, and this time, she was the one to run away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	5. Demands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are introducing the merchant prince of Serene, and boy does he have a part to play in this story. No wonder why Constantin hates him so. So does de Sardet, kinda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fair warning. If you are squeamish about threats, creepy people, or abusive relationships, do not read. We are introducing the merchant prince of Serene, and boy will he have a part to play in this story.

“Legate de Sardet, his Excellency, Prince d’Orsay, requests your presence in his drawing room,” came the order even though it was addressed politely by the messenger. He seemed tense, as though, she would brush such a calling off as Constantin did often.

“I shall go immediately, then,” and at her response he relaxed as though a giant burden was lifted from his chest. Maybe it was, and was just transferred to her.

The way to the merchant prince’s wing was time consuming. He lived in the farthest part of the palace, away from the rest of the people including his wife who lived in the castle, to the west where he could watch the boats dock and depart. It’s isolation was one of the daunting things about it, but even more so was the fact her kept the wing almost entirely devoid of people except for her personally hired guards, who were not Coin Guard soldiers, and the occasional cleaning servant. Extremely important guests were invited to enjoy the hospitality of his wing, however most found reasons to avoid the place altogether. When she was younger, the west wing was a sanctuary to her. A peaceful place where no one would bother her, not even Constantin, but now it held a sense of foreboding due to its sole inhabitant.

Her pace was decently brisk, not slow enough to make him believe that she was ignoring his command, but not fast enough to make it seem that she rushed to his beck and call. Prince d’Orsay appreciated and expected tact, and his unruly niece tossing through his abode would paint a bad picture of her, and therefore him as well. Nerves also kept her from running or dragging her feet, as she both dreaded to arrive, and dreaded to not know what he needed her for. So she distracted herself with the pictures of the royalty lining the wall, another factor that unnerved many a visitors. Unlike other nobles, the d’Orsay family did not have family paintings in the main wing, but instead portraits of each and ever successor to the family line. It was a long and robust lineage, faces filled with straight golden blond hair and mostly amber eyes. None of the faces smiled, each with a serious face, slightly turned head, staring directly at the observer with empty eyes. Faces that once never bothered and even comforted her brought trepidation once more into her stomach, and she tugged nervously at her own curly dark locks.

She drug her gaze away from the ghostly eyes, and focused at the task at hand. Staring at the painting slowed her pace, if only slightly, and she would have to make up for it. The merchant prince was aware of every second, every breath, every slip of hesitance, and she wasn’t to be late, not to him. It felt like she took too long, felt like she didn’t make it in time, when her fist rapped against the door, but now was not the time for weakness. His ever strict expectations didn’t allow for it, so she kept her chin held high and her shoulders set.

“Enter, Maëlys,” came his deep and thundering voice through the door, and she pressed forward, slipping in gracefully in a few strides and a slight push to the door.

Her uncle stood tall facing the gigantic window staring out at the sea, his legs spread oh so slightly, posture both rigid and relaxed with his hands and arms drawn behind his back. His golden mane, stripped with the occasional strand of silver, making him even more regal in his age. He could feel her staring, she knew, so she bent to a low bow as she was wearing trousers instead of a dress.

As if he had eyes in the back of his head, he waved off her bow, “Take a seat, child.” Another oddity, to refer to her as such.

His back was still to her, and his position resumed. She, as obedient as ever, obeyed. Wasting time in silence was so unlike him, so she knew it was for a purpose. Was he trying to intimidate her? Trying to unnerve her and make her collapse? Was she in trouble, and he was searching for the words? Had he heard about her incident with Kurt at the bar? They weren’t particularly quiet, and if there were rumors about her begging a Coin Guard soldier to join her on the expedition to Teer Fradee, the d’Orsay reputation would be dented. The reigning family of the Congregation of Merchants and Serene did not beg. He wouldn’t wait for that though, he would be swift, be exact. No, it was something else. Her stomach dropped into her feet, and she felt nauseous and light headed all at once. Desperately, she tried not to swoon.

“Do not slouch,” he may have as well yelled at her, with the way she whipped upward into a straight position. But no, his voice was as calm and controlled as ever, so unlike Constantin. He turned slowly, ever in utter command, as usual. His picture did him little justice. While Constantin was handsome in a boyish way, her uncle was a striking and attractive man. Unlike the lion prince, the merchant prince was like a golden dragon, magnificent and terrifying all at once. His hair was a darker blond than Constantin’s pale mane, eyes amber and smoldering. Where Constantin was soft, lean, and elegant, the prince was muscled and firm, and these features were only exaggerated by his personality.

She did not apologize, the d’Orsay family did not apologize, but she could not bear to meet his eyes, “Yes, your excellency.”

“You wonder why you are here.”

“Yes, your excellency.”

“You were late.”

“Yes, your excellency.”

His tone made her want to flinch, “I did not raise you to be a timid parrot, child.”

Her eyes met his, and she was almost breathless in fear, “I was late, and I am curious as to why I am here. Yet, we waste more time with discussing such unimportant matters.”

“Every matter is important. Grace and punctuality are important. You know this.”

“I do. It shall not happen again.”

“It shall not, indeed,” His gaze left her, and she felt as though she could suddenly breath again.

He had never hit her, but sometimes his words struck harder than that of a physical wound. Sometimes she wished he would just slap her for her ineptitudes. She had seem him strike Constantin once. In fact, she didn’t even know why, she had come in when they thought they were alone. His hand drew back and struck her cousin like a snake struck its prey, the sound leaving a resounding and echoing slap. She had seen the tears in his beautiful blue eyes, and her heart broke for him that day. Never again did she see her uncle as a noble and distant prince, but instead a monster.

“I have commissioned an artist to paint your coronation portrait,” he stated in a neutral tone, and though it was a statement, there was a demand in it as well.

‘_Why? Constantin is the heir_,’ her head spun, and she felt sick again, but she was smart enough to keep her face and posture neutral.

As if he intended to confuse her more, he continued, “Your cousin’s has already been painted, and has yet to be hung.”

Questions would imply that she didn’t know what was going on, and cluelessness would imply she was dumb so she avoided it all together. ‘_What is he thinking? If they have his portrait, why would they want mine? What is he thinking?_’ “There is little time for such things. We intended to depart in two days time, and there is still much to do,” she responded, totally unsure of what was going on.

“While the outpost has been established, it is not without its dangers. If one of you were to fall, the other must take up the throne. Serene will need a heir, and you are next in line. Your mother had her own painting done, when we were young. If I departed on my journeys, she would have inherited the place which I now preside. The portrait must be ready in case there are any unscrupulous events that occur here. It wasn’t an issue when your cousin was close, but now you are both venturing.”

It was understandable, she supposed, but there was something entirely wrong about it. Maybe it was because she had heard whispers of the idea of usurping her cousin after her uncle’s death, and now even merchant prince was suggesting that if something were to happen to Constantin, that she- ‘It’s all too much,’ she thought, lightheaded, ‘To think they would write him off before he was even dead. How heartless, how cruel.’

“I won’t let him die out there. I won’t,” came her response, a bit too heated to her uncle’s liking, apparently with the way his eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

“I have no intention of dying, but I acknowledge the fact that it can and will happen. The same goes for your cousin. To think one has such powers over such things is ignorant. Ignorance is the trait of a fool. I did not raise a fool.”

She wanted to scream, ‘_You didn’t raise anything. You weren’t there for me, and you sure as hell weren’t there for your son! Yes, YOUR SON. The boy who is yours, yet you refuse to call him your own or even say his name!_’ Yet she retained her composure, despite the fact that her façade was slowly crumbling. “I don’t even want to consider the throne.”

“That is good. It isn’t yours to have, but if both the boy and I were to die, you are to have it, whether you want it or not.”

‘_If Constantin is not here, nothing will hold me back. Mother will be dead, and I will be free of this place!_’ But she couldn’t say that, couldn’t reveal what she really felt, not in front of him, “If such a terrible disaster were to arise, it seems I would have no other choice.”

It was like he read her thoughts, and disapproved, “There is always a choice. You will choose the right one.”

Rage inflamed her, he demanded things of her and then implied that when she abided, it was her choice to do so. If it wasn’t for the sake of Serene, she would equate the situation of him holding a knife to her neck to do as he pleased. It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t right that he didn’t even consider what she wanted. Why did no one consider what she wanted?

She flexed her fingers, if only to keep them from curling into fists, and he seemed to notice the movement and disapproved with his eyes, “I will inherit the throne if you two are to pass. I choose to inherit the throne and will contest any opposing claims.” Her words seemed to come from another person, an empty shell of a person.

“Good, I entrust it to your capable hands, Maëlys,” she hated her name from his lips, hated it with a passion that only he seemed to use it constantly when everyone else called her de Sardet. His words were dull, despite the praise in them. It was expected of her. He knew she would accept. “You may leave.” She stood slowly, feeling like her entire body was being drug into the ground, and he watched her carefully as ever. Just as her hand reached for the door, he spoke once more, “One more moment, I was just informed that the master of arms shall be joining you despite his earlier reluctance.”

She couldn’t bear to even turn back and look at him, she kept her voice from quaking, “He is.”

“You must remember your place. He is merely a servant, replaceable. I have let you keep him because it makes you happy and because you have asked when you have never asked for anything else, but if you forget,” his voice trailed off ominously as he knew he didn’t need to finish that sentence.

She steeled her voice, burying the rage within, telling herself it was because he cared, “Yes, your excellency.”

“I shall repeat myself, though I distaste it so. You are no parrot, and I have told you to call me by my name when we are alone, Maëlys. I forgave you for it earlier because you have been out of sorts as of late due to your mother’s condition, but it is not in my nature to forgive.”

“Thank you, Aurelian,” his name, as beautiful as his face, tasted like ashes in her mouth.

She didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling. She hated him, hated who he had become. Something had changed about him, when she was younger. He wasn’t this cruel before, though he was always strict, and this meeting, with all its underlying and unspoken threats made her agitated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
What's got uncle so pissy all the time? Well, you aren't gonna find out any time soon! Sucks.


	6. News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Constantin and de Sardet have a talk. Things do not go as she expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited.

This was not the reaction she had expected when she brought the news to him. He was supposed to be angry, she supposed, but instead he took it without a hint of shock on his face, but instead almost a look of relief. Why would he be relieved? She knew he wanted to reign over Serene, at least if his father and mother were gone, so the idea should be appalling to think his parents were lining up the next successor. He also knew that she didn’t want the responsibility of leading a country. So why was he so calm and almost happy? Then it occurred to her.

“You already knew what he was planning,” she said, both in shock and in slight betrayal.

He looked alarmed then hurt, “It is tradition, dear cousin. I am surprised you didn’t know it yourself.”

That may have been true, but there was something just wrong about the entire idea. Not once had she ever truly considered inheriting the throne, not once had anyone in her family mentioned it before. It was always someone else’s duty, her uncle’s or Constantin’s, even her aunt’s or her mother’s if need be. Despite the insistent idea that she was indeed a d’Orsay, she never felt it. Maybe it was because she inherited her father’s looks, maybe it was because the family, short of her mother and Constantin, were known to be heartless business runners, but either way, she never fit in, not really. She was an outsider, a favored friend of the prince’s son, but not actually a part of the family. The throne was the heirloom of the d’Orsay family, and she was simply not one. She didn’t want to be one. ‘My name is de Sardet.’

Constantin was looking more and more distressed at her silence, and soon his hands were on her shoulders, “Darling cousin, light of my life, don’t be mad. If I knew it would anger your so, I would have told you long ago.”

“I’m not angry,” she forced herself to ease the tension in her body and smile at him, her golden lion and dear cousin. “It’s just, well, I told you because it was important. I thought you would do the same.”

“But it isn’t important, isn’t it? You won’t be forced on the throne, so say you’ll forgive me, say you aren’t mad,” his bright blue eyes pleaded at her, and she couldn’t help herself as she pulled him into a hug.

She was mad, rightfully so, but not at him, never at him, “Oh, Constantin, there’s nothing to forgive. I’m sorry, it was just overwhelming. Your father. He scares me sometimes, that’s all, and the even the thought of replacing you, well it doesn’t sit well with me.”

He squeezed her tight, head leaning over her shoulder slightly, as her face pressed into his clavicle. His arms rested at her waist as he pressed her to himself, and she placed her palms on his shoulders gently. Oh, how she loved him, her sweet cousin, so fragile, carrying, and innocent. It was easy to stay in his arms for a moment, easy to pretend they were children and their problems were small and unimportant. He was her main source of comfort in preparing for this wretched misadventure, and he handled her moods tastefully as always. After a second, his hands drifted lower and he detached himself, smiling brightly at her before turning his back to her and peering at the paperwork on her desk.

“On the morrow, we are to depart finally. To lands new and beautiful. I am terribly excited, cousin,” he stated, rustling through her papers.

“Indeed, I do hope everyone has packed properly and turned their goods into the harbor master already. It is far too late now,” she replied wistfully.

“Most already did so weeks ago, who would have forgotten such an important matter?”

Her response was slow and quiet, “Kurt.” She had expected him to abruptly turn around, grin bursting from his face and twirl her around like he used to do when they were children, but instead she saw him tense for the briefest of moments, before turning to stare at her with a question in his eyes.

She couldn’t read his tone, but it sounded almost nervous, shaking slightly in vibrations, “He’s coming with us?”

“Oh, Constantin, he isn’t mad at you for being cross with him,” her tone was soothing, as she pressed a hand to his cheek. He pulled away, facing her desk once more, fists clenched and pressed against the wood as he leaned.

His tone, she realized, was not that of shyness but of anger, “Mad at me? Why would he be mad at me? I am mad at him!”

“Whatever for? If you are irritated about his hesitance, I was too, Constantin, but you have to see it his way. He’s spent so much time with us already, so much of his life, going to Teer Fradee isn’t a small commitment, even if he did choose to return,” she tried to placate him, but he began to pace, an angry lion in a cage.

“He strings you along, my dear, and you refuse to see it.”

“That isn’t fair to say. You know, he isn’t like that. Constantin, he’s the same man who used to buy us candies after we first learned to draw a bow. He used to play games of make believe with us, our dragon and defender. He’s too kind to deny us. How can you say that?”

Her words seemed to get through to him, as he slowed his pacing, but something inside his eyes seemed to boil, smolder like his father, and it hurt her soul to see such a vile emotion in that of her golden prince. Maybe he saw her horror concerning his outburst, because they at once turned soft again, her considerate cousin returning once more. He stopped and sighed deeply before smiling at her, albeit stiffly.

“Forgive me once more, cousin. It’s just I don’t want to see him hurt you. He already has, even though it was unintentional, and he will again if you don’t distance yourself from him.”

“He’s my friend, he’s our friend. With so much of his time invested in us, we can’t abandon him now.”

He paused for some time, a contemplative look on his face before he smiled gently and said, “My dear, you are as compassionate as ever. A saint in disguise. I shan’t push it any further, I don’t want to upset you, but know that I shall always be there for you, even if he is not.”

Relieved that he had calmed, she responded sweetly, “I know, Constantin. You’ve helped me so much along the way, and I owe you everything I have. If it wasn’t for you, well, I don’t think I could bear this place.”

His tone dripped with emotion, “No one understand you more than I, cousin.”

“So it seems,” the thought of his suffering without the love of a parent was heartbreaking. More so because both of his were very much alive. It brought tears to her eyes as the only a glimpse of his loneliness became apparent.

“Don’t cry,” he beseeched, brushing her hair back from her face gently.

“I’m not sad,” the lie came quickly enough. She continued,“ I’m just happy that I have had you in my life.”

“As am I, dearest, as am I.” He gave her a few seconds to compose herself, and for that she was grateful. She always came to his physical rescue, saving her golden damsel in distress, but when she was in emotional distraught, he was there to comfort her despite his own problems. “Will you join me in my final escapade before we depart?”

“Oh, I have so much to do before we leave, Constantin, I don’t think I can. Please be safe though.” Part of her wanted to join him, and the other part didn’t. Her dear cousin, for as much as she loved him, had the tendency to go overboard with whatever he did. When he partied, he partied without abandon, and she did not want to spoil his fun the night before they left. He would be safe, she was sure, there would be guards tailing him until the moment they departed from Serene, and she truthfully did have much to do still, including sitting for the portrait that he so blatantly cared little for.

She could hear the disappointment in his voice, but he did try to mask it, “Of course, well, I shall drink for the both of us then. Adieu, fair cousin. Do not have too much fun without me.”

“Life is dull without you. Nevertheless, adieu. I will see you tomorrow.”

He tried to keep the tension out of his body as he left, truly did. She noted these things very carefully, always perceptive when reading body language, but when it came to him, well, she had a weak spot. He, her dear sweet cousin, could do nothing wrong in her eyes. His temper upset her, reminded her too much of his father when he flew in to a rage and slapped him, and he never wanted to be compared to that man, especially not by her. Yet the thought of Kurt joining them infuriated him. Maëlys de Sardet was the one person to love him unconditionally, and he was not keen on sharing her, especially to someone who didn’t appreciate her for the saint she was. Deep down, he knew that the captain was a good man, one whose morals made even the most honorable nobles look like filth, but that didn’t stop him from being jealous. Didn’t stop him from wanting to protect her from being hurt. She was all he had, and he swore to protect her with his every breath, and Kurt had unintentionally broken her heart once already, and he was bound to do it again.

It was aggravating seeing her prance around their master of arms, only to be disregarded time and time again. She catered to older man as if he were someone more important than he actually was, and he didn’t appreciate it at all. If it were him, if she had loved him so, he would have moved heaven and earth for her. Would have worshiped her every second of the day, reminded her how much he loved her. How much he cared. But it was all a wistful dream that one day, she would reciprocate his exact feelings, and despite not learning much from his heartless parents, he learned very earlier in his life that dreams were just that, dreams and nothing more. She was his cousin, his only companion, and not only was such a love wrong -though it felt so right-, it was also unfair to her. They could never be together not really, society would never accept it, and they would either have to hide such a relationship or be scorned by the world. No, they could never be, but he would keep her as close as possible, as her cousin who supported her unabashedly because that was his way of protecting her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> To all who have wrote comments, thank you dearly. I had no intention of posting chapters in such quick succession, but these little notes you have left to me had me jumping to post them up.
> 
> SPOILERS. I have a weak spot for Constantin, and sometimes I have a hard time writing his character. He definitely seems to know a lot more than he lets on, but at the same time, his thought process isn't always on point. I like to think he's just a little bit crazy which will only escalate. I also like to think that this craziness is partially due to how he was raised, by a unfeeling father (revealed by in game dialogue with Kurt) and a mother who likes to plan assassinations (also in game dialogue though it might have been someone's headcanon that I totally agreed with???). He's lonely and would have literally fallen for anyone who showed him compassion. De Sardet just happened to be the first. I also don't think he is all buddy buddy w/ Kurt b/c in Treason, he isn't exactly the nicest so for some reason, they have beef. Imma say it is jealousy.


	7. Realization and Sparring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> De Sardet is having a bad day. Kurt gets her to spar with him to distract her for a moment, but he comes to a scary realization. The little girl isn't a little girl anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited as usual.
> 
> A bit of the game dialogue mashed up in there, and the chapter is a bit longer because I didn't wanna separate it into two. Additionally, the all of the sword fighting written is completely speculative. I don't know a things about fighting with swords. The move de Sardet uses to flip Kurt though is a defensive move for those pinned with a person straddling the other and choking them. If you youtube how to get out of a pin, you might be able to see it.

A grin graced her lips as she flew down the stairs, short curly hair fluttering with her rapid and bounding leaps. He vaguely recalled that she had been ordered to pose for a portrait painting, at the request of the merchant prince himself, but such things took time, and the fact she ran free with such glee meant that somehow she had escaped the task. Odd, considering she was, more often than not, the perfect protégé of the Congregation of Merchants. Maybe her beloved cousin was rubbing off of her, planting seeds of rebellion that were starting to bloom. Her iridescent green eyes swept over the courtyard, and he could see the gears grinding in her head as her mouth slowly tilted downward into a frown. For someone so terribly unpredictable and calculating, she was easy to read sometimes. Though it didn’t take a genius to know that her gaze fell upon the dark doors leading to the east wing where her sickly mother resided in isolation. The look on her face mirrored that of the one in the bar, those sad eyes and downturned mouth that tried so hard to be strong, in spite of the fact that everything was not going her way. He could see the transformation take place before his very eyes, as the sad child morphed into the steely woman, ready to face reality, and his heart ached just as it had then. The man in him wanted to give her but a second of reprieve before she had to address her mother for the last time, and he found himself moving before he could think of anything else.

It was dangerous, to try and uplift her spirits, especially considering her reaction in the bar. He could see the desperation in her eyes, the hurt she felt when he debated over whether or not he would join her and Constantin. Despite being a grown woman and being completely aware of their situation, she still clung to him like her teacher and friend. It was an idea that he was not keen on weaning her off of, for both his sake and her own, but she needed to know that sooner rather than later. She needed to understand he wasn’t really her friend, but instead was hired help. Though maybe she did recognize the difference between them. In a moment of vulnerability, he reached out to her, shared his hopes and dreams, and she refused to do the same. It was a cold reminder that while she might think she cared about him, he would never be her equal, never be a confidant, never be a true friend. Almost like a toy or tool. Being used would be fine since he would be able to distance himself, but since she pretended to care, she gave him hope for true friendship and understanding, a curse and a blessing altogether.

His mind told him to leave her, but his hand grasped a rapier from the weapons rack, and when she hit the middle of the courtyard, he threw it at her, handle first. “Catch, Green Blood.” She turned like a whip and caught it with inexplicable grace, something he could never teach her, and he grabbed a dulled claymore, and met her halfway. “One last lesson before you parade about like your silly cousin.”

“The lesson?”

He hadn’t thought that far, too distracted in thought to responds properly. Intent on deterring her from reality for a bit, he improvised, trying to rile her up, “You aren’t as good as you think you are. Now fight with honor!” Some of his words held a little bit of truth to them, she was as cruel as she was kind.

Battle left little room for thought, a lack of thought was what they both needed, so he charged her, sword swinging dangerously as she tried to get into the proper position. She dodged to the side, and if he continued to swing so he could possibly hit her but risk overextending, so he pulled back into guard. Her lips pulled back into a grin, teeth flashing, and her virescent eyes wild like nature itself. Thus the game began. They exchanged a few blows, him using his strength to make her back down, and her using his own weight against him as she redirected the force. She was naturally talented in many things and dueling and fighting were no exception, but she was young, and not without her own faults. He had tempered many of these faults, not to flatter himself to much, but the one thing that remained was her indomitable spirit and pride. One that convinced her it was a smart move to lunge directly forward to try and thrust her sword into his shoulder.

He caught her thin blade on his cross guard, and twisted his own blade to the side, dragging her with it. Her wrist twisted in the impact, and he dropped one of his hands from the sword and swung at her with his heavy metal gauntlet. Her eyes grew round like saucers, and she just barely avoided his fist by rolling with his blade into the ground. Surprisingly, she managed to perform the roll just perfectly that she landed perched on her toes, crouching with a grin on her face once more. Laughter was on both their tongues, but he remained mostly focused and started another assault as she basked in her luckiness. She could not roll backwards, or to the side in such a position position and with his wide arched swing, nor did she have the strength or leverage to stop his blow entirely, so she angled her sword sideways above her head with both hands, and let the claymore clash viciously with it. The thin sword screamed at the force and speed of the collision, bending but not breaking. Then in blur, she was flying at him he had no clue how she managed to remove her hands from her sword so quickly after the contact, but it fell to the floor with a clatter. If he had maintained his position, she would have simply rebounded of his legs, but he stumbled backwards to avoid her, and thus lost his balance and landed with his ass to the ground. His head snapped back to the cement, but not so hard that he’d be truly injured. One of his hands flew backward to soften the fall, and the other dropped the sword to grab the scrambling girl on his torso and in between his legs. Luckily he was able to grasp her throat and with the twist of his hips, he had her back to the ground instead.

“Yield,” he rasped.

She snarled like a hellcat, green eyes flashing, and her hips bucked and jerked viciously as he struggle to keep a grip. The rubbing and thrusting had him reacting in ways he didn’t necessarily expect, but then again it was only natural. Fighting often led to increased circulation, the rush of adrenaline. He tried not to think too much on it, and renewed the strength behind his grip. One of her hands flew to his tricep, not to tap but to resist, and his patience was wearing thin. He pressed down harder, enough that he face began to turn red. She renewed her resistance in full force, shuffling, but soon enough she would have to give, that was until he felt her shift a leg over one of his kneeling ones, trapping him there as she used her other leg and abdomen to push up and turn. He couldn’t get any leverage to stay on top, with his leg trapped, and it felt like slow motion as she moved them both to their sides.

For a man his size to be tipped by a little girl like her, a moment of pure genius, or maybe straight up survival instinct, but either way she had done it. She was scrambling away on all fours, panting and reaching for her sword just a couple feet away, but he managed to focus and grab one of her ankles. Her head turned, and he could see the kick coming. Her other leg lashed out to smash into his hand holding her, and he caught that foot too. She couldn’t pull away with just her upper body, but he was tired to drag her back to him as well. This entire bout was exhausting and exhilarating all at once. A true battle, obviously with little honor and pure survival in mind, and something she would have to get used to fighting in a foreign land against unknown people.

If she got to her sword, the battle would be even. On the ground, he had the advantage. He outweighed her significantly and if he could muster the strength, he could literally just sit on her until she tapped. He just had to rally the strength to get her there. Like a spider, she clung to the ground, resisting his every tug, and kicking up a storm. His grip faltered for a moment after one of those kicks, and she broke her leg free, smashing into his other hand and making him relinquish that grip as well. She started scrambling once more, reaching to get up onto her feet, and he pushed himself up and tackled her. Distinctly, he could hear the air squish out of her underneath his weight, and he dreaded what damage he caused, however resilient as a weed, she started sucking in air.

She was wheezing, “Good god, Kurt,” a large gasp for air, “have you put on a couple pounds?” She coughed, “You weigh a literal ton.”

He stuck between laughing and just collapsing on her, sore and feeling beaten despite the circumstances, “Yield?”

“Yes, whatever. I didn’t think I’d ever have to say this, but please get off me,” the innuendo was there, and he shook his head.

Pushing himself up, he rolled over to his back, “I know, old smelly men aren’t your type.”

She snorted, breaking out into laughter despite being out of breath, and he rolled his eyes. Everything hurt, from his head to his toes. His head sported a nasty lump from the fall, arms were bruised from her kicking, knees and back sore from age and impact. ‘_A spring chicken no longer_,’ he noted, running his hand through his already messed up hair. His hat had flew from his head from their collision, landing somewhere behind them. All in all, he was exhausted, yet there she was getting up and standing over him already, still panting with her bright red cheeks, but grinning from ear to ear.

“Maybe if I held out a bit longer, I would have beat you,” she snickered, eyes twinkling happily.

“If this was a real battle, you’d be dead twice over. That last lunge with your sword made you vulnerable, if I didn’t pull my punch, you’d have lost a few teeth. Then trying to take me to the ground was stupid, I outweigh you. If I had intended to kill you, I would have snapped your neck instead of choking you.”

“If this was a real battle, I would have stabbed you with the knife in my boot before you even had the chance of grabbing at me, but it wasn’t so I didn’t. Thought it wouldn’t be honorable to pull another weapon out of nowhere. And you didn’t pull that punch, you didn’t have the leverage to throw a good one.”

“Always so smart, you are,” he replied sarcastically. She was still snickering above him, acting every bit of the child that she was, it made his heart ache. “Yet you still ended up losing.”

“From where I stand, I certainly feel like the winner here. Can’t keep up with a woman any longer, old man?”

He grunted as he pushed himself up to his elbows to glare at her, and she threw her hands up in surrender, turning around and reaching to grab his hat that went flying. Then he realized she wasn’t wearing her usual outfit, instead a tight pair of riding pants, and as she began to bend over to pick it up, he redirected his gaze promptly anywhere but in her direction, feeling his ears turn red. He felt the thought in the back of his head before it actually manifested. It creeped up in the dark recesses of his mind, and before he could shut it down it overtook him like the sickness it was. He had noticed long before that her stick figure had given away to billowy curse. Recalling all the times he laughed openly at her primping attempts, the struggles of youth. Flirting with him was just the mischievousness of a rebellious young girl, intent on exploring the new world with someone safe who wouldn’t reciprocate. He wasn’t interested in children and young girls, but the knowledge that the little girl he helped raise had long grown up into a woman, nearly broke him. She was in her mid twenties, already well versed in the art of pleasure, from what he heard, and she was taking the time to tease him. Him, the old soldier, almost twice her age. That was a sobering thought, slowing the idea. He fell backwards once more, yelling at himself in his own head, ‘Stop. Stop. Stop!’

That sort of train of thought would only progress his damnation. He wanted to smash his head into the cement ground, in hopes that pain would purge the idea from ever occurring in his head, but he knew he crossed the line and was bound to burn. He had to steel himself. Remember that he was just a tool, replaceable. His hat flew onto his face, blocking his sight of the sky out, and he reached upward, moving it out of the way in question. Green eyes peered back at him she said something similar to what she had said in past despite meaning something different. 

He could recall little green eyes, peering up at him through dark lashes even though he was kneeling back, “_Are you good too, Kurt_?”

“Kurt? Are you good? Kurt,” concern began to seep from her voice.

He snapped back to the present, fixing his hat to his head, “I’m fine. Just catching my breath.”

Her hand waved in front of his hesitantly, as though she didn’t believe him, “Are you sure? You did suffer quite the fall. Could you possibly have a concussion? Those are dangerous.”

“I’m fine, Green Blood. Pull off a bit,” he grumbled, moving forward to get up.

She rushed to him, grabbing his arm and pressing against her soft chest as she tried to help him. He ripped his arm away, scowling at himself in disgust, at his thoughts of her soft breasts against him. The telling sound of her stepping away to give him space meant that he had hurt her feelings, and that was only confirmed with how she wouldn’t meet his eyes. He never hated himself more.

The excuse fell out of his lips, and though it wasn’t a lie, it definitely wasn’t the truth, “Sorry, Green Blood. It’s just that arm hurts from your valiant attempts to escape.”

“Oh,” came her sigh. “Sorry, but I couldn’t think of another way to get loose.”

“Don’t apologize for trying to defend yourself,” he sighed. There was little reason to keep her now, but he found himself dragging the conversation out anyway. “So the day has finally come, my royal fledglings ready to leave the nest.”

“Well, only partially. You are coming with us.”

“Someone has to keep you dainties alive.”

“Ironic considering this unarmed light weighted dainty knocked you, a fully armored man, to the ground.”

“You defended yourself well, I suppose. One might think you had a proper master of arms.”

She playfully rolled her eyes, drawling, “The best.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Green Blood,” he scowled. “Since you’re so well prepared, are you ready for another round? Otto could use a partner for a moment.”

“No, I must get going. There is always so much for me to do with so little time. You’ve already made sure your bags are turned in to the harbor master, correct?”

“Yes, there wasn’t much to pack at all. You know I get by with very little,” he paused, “You do still want me to go, right?”

Her mouth turned downward into a pout and with his newfound awareness, he quickly cursed his own statement. “There is no one I’d rather have by my side,” was her quiet response, and he was equally pleased and annoyed all at once.

He hadn’t meant to be rude, but it slipped out, “That is, of course, until you find someone cheaper.”

She took it gracefully, not sensing his ill mood, and teased, “Yes, because you are so expensive and hard to please.”

“Talking about expensive and hard to please, where is our future governor? I had meant to put his skills to the test as well...” Redirection was key.

“I’ve no idea really. He had invited me to celebrate our departure last night, but I have seen him since. Constantin is a free spirit though, he’s likely just recuperating. I should have gone with him, but with all this work and then the idea of leaving. Well, I didn’t have the heart to go with him.”

“You were never keen on partying like him,” the things to discuss were dwindling and erring on depressing topics.

She seemed to sense the end nearing, and saved him the awkwardness, “Well, I think I must get going now. It was fun, Kurt, but I have to say a few goodbyes,” where her sad eyes pointed to said what she couldn’t.

She began to turn when he stopped her, “It is never easy to say goodbye, Green Blood, so take all the time you need. I’ll be waiting on you outside though, I might need your help with a situation, and I am sure that you could use mine with finding your cousin.”

“I- Thank you, Kurt.” He nodded at her thanks, and turned to clean up after their battle. He could hear her footsteps as she padded away, slow and somber, and for a moment, considered whether or not all of this was what she really wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! An extra thank you for the comments!!! <3
> 
> I think Kurt, who knew de Sardet when she was a wee thing, would be absolutely positively horrified to think of her as a grown woman with whom he could feel something for. He would begin to doubt his character and intentions even though they were completely innocent, and it would weigh on him. Hopefully, I'll get to touching on that more


	8. Goodbye Mother Dearest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> De Sardet is throwing a pity party. No one really wants in, but at least Kurt is there to cheer her up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited as usual.  
Prep for sad times, angry times, and threats of violence. Uncle is in this chapter, and he has the tendency to make things worse.

Her short excursion with Kurt had eased her tension up until the moment she entered the room. No tears fell in that quiet room in the beginning, she wouldn’t allow it. The princess, suffering in unimaginable pain as the disease ravaged her body, refused to cry in the presence of her daughter, and so de Sardet likewise kept herself from crying. It was astonishing how the sick woman, in the face of death and eternal loneliness, denied the sadness that so easily overcame the young legate. Maybe she was equally as heartbroken, but already accepted her dismal and lonely struggle of having to die alone. Maybe she was just being strong for her daughter. Either way, each word, each moment was savored and terribly dreadful, knowing it would be their last. Thus, even after they had long ran out of words, both remained. De Sardet felt her desperation slowly seep through, and she fell to her knees before her mother, cradling her hands and pressing them to her lips.

“Oh mother, I’ll bring the cure back to you, I swear it. You just have to hold on a bit longer. Please don’t give up,” her voice wobbled, her grip too tight on the cold fingers. Her mother sat there, blind, but somehow seeing so much more.

“My darling sweet child, never make promises you can’t keep. You know this. I am going to die, my love, and you just have to accept it. Fear not, and don’t let me hinder you any longer. You must go to Teer Fradee, it is meant to be. You belong there.”

‘_I belong by your side, now more than ever,_’ she thought, but she knew it was hopeless to debate over it

She managed to nod, standing up to kiss her mother goodbye, unable to stare at the empty eyes, but when she finally pressed her lips to the dying woman’s cheek, she felt the tears on her lips. Her eyes drifted to her mother’s dripping eyes, so filled with love and fear, and she felt something inside her break. Her arms ripped away from the other woman’s, only to enclose the skeletal woman in a fierce hug. She could feel the woman’s tremors from her silent sobs, as she too wanted so desperately to cry as well, but this wasn’t about her. Right now, her mother needed her to be strong. Needed to be present. When the woman finally composed herself, she let go, and two hands grasped her face, slipping a trinket between her fingers.

“Go, darling. Go out and do what you must. I am so proud of you, my love.”

“I love you, mother,” came her own shaky voice, and she left the room, every step away feeling like a betrayal in itself.

When she finally closed the door behind her, she felt the world crash around her like glass. The walls were thin though, and eyes ever watching so she walked briskly throughout the castle to find solitude. In her mission to reach isolation, her steps soon gained pace as she felt her resolve begin to crumble, and soon she was both running away and crying, silently. No one bothered to stop her, but she knew that she needed to get to somewhere private before she truly broke down. Her office and quarter was likely swarming with servants, so that was an obvious no. Her feet took her down the path, mind unaware, and she soon ended up confronted by unseeing eyes lining the walls and a towering door. She couldn’t be bothered to care, however, and she shoved the door open unceremoniously, let it shut, and then broke out into terribly unattractive sobs as she fell to the floor. Tears and snot ran down her face as she curled up into herself and let the empty feeling in her chest overwhelm her in her solitude.

“While I expected you to pay me a visit before you departed, I had no expected you in such a inappropriate state,” came the chilling voice, and she stared at the smoldering amber eyes in shock.

If she were in the slightest bit rational, she might have dusted herself off, composed herself, then excused herself and found somewhere else to cry her heart out. Instead, her face scrunched up, and she yelled, “She is going to die alone!”

“Everyone dies, and almost everyone dies alone,” he responded, unfeeling, “Now cease crying.” His cruel words only made her cry harder, the sound echoing in the enormous library, ricocheting off the walls and egging her on. He waited a moment or so before his temper finally peaked. “I said stop crying! You knew this moment was to come,” he didn’t yell, but the command ripped from his tongue like he was.

“This is your fault,” she hissed, grief turning to bitter anger. “I wouldn’t have to leave if it wasn’t for you!”

“I am doing this for your own sake, you ungrateful child,” he returned, the beautiful and handsome face shifting into the angry monstrous one, the same one on his face when he struck Constantin.

Her voice cracked as she screamed, “You aren’t. You only care for yourself!”

He stormed towards her looking absolutely outraged, murderous. She wondered what happened to her kind uncle that once loved her and Constantin. The one that was adventurous and gleeful, so much like her beloved cousin. The one that let her convince him that Kurt should be their personal guard despite his objections and her mother’s hesitation. His hand raised high in the air, and she flinched, expecting the slap to come, but seconds drew into minutes, and when she finally managed the courage to look at him once more, she realized his hand had lowered. He was staring at her both angrily and sadly, and when their eyes met, he whirled around, arms drawing behind his back as he stalked away.

“One day, you’ll understand, Maëlys,” he stated calmly, reigning in his anger, but that didn’t temper the rage that she felt.

‘_That’s what you say to a child,_’ she hissed in her own mind, but with the way she was crying, she could hardly contest it. ‘_How old do I have to be to understand? Will I always be this unhappy? Burdened by this wretched burden?_’

“Just leave me alone,” she hissed, gathering herself together.

“This is my private library. I refuse to leave it.”

She didn’t feel like stating that he never used it, “Fine, I shall leave.”

“I didn’t dismiss you, girl.”

“You didn’t summon me here either, your excellency, but if it is all the same to you, I think I shall excuse myself.”

His voice almost took on a pleading tone, though maybe she simply imagined it, “Wait, Maëlys. We will not see one another for quite some time, don’t leave in anger.”

“You are an unfeeling monster,” the words slipped from her mouth.

She saw the change before her, the shift in his eyes, his voice was deadly calm, “I took you in like one of our own. Raised you up and supported you. You’d be nowhere if not for me.”

“I never wanted to be a D’Orsay! I’m a de Sardet, my father’s child, not yours!”

She saw his teeth grit together viciously, and he waved his hand at her, dismissing her. Maybe she should have just left, should have stopped while she could, but the words were slipping free like water from a bursting dam, “I hate you, you know? Despise your very guts, you unfeeling monster.” Her voice took on a deadly serious tone, and she almost thought she saw him flinch. Either way, she was out the door before he could respond.

Anger helped mask the grief, and there was still work to be done. Endless amounts. She had to find Constantin, a usually not simple task, had to meet the captain, and say goodbye to the ambassadors. No, now wasn’t the time to cry. Carefully, she slide into the persona of the legate of the Congregation of Merchants. By the time she had exited the gate from the palace, dressed properly and scrubbed clean, she had a serious and determined look on her face, and there Kurt stood, staring off into the sea.

Her question had him turning to stare at her, “Are you ready?”

The shock on his face at her appearance, red eyes and nose, told her that she hadn’t quite gotten it all together, but he was polite rather than teasing, “Sorry, Green Blood.” He squeezed her shoulder sympathetically briefly before letting his hand drop.

The compassion as appreciated, but it made her feel teary eyed once more as he broke through her carefully placed veneer. Her voice came in a whisper, “Thank you, Kurt.”

“It will feel better in time.”

She laughed, though it was more of a pathetic heartbroken chuckle, “Oh dear, I hope so.”

“Are you ready to embark on this new adventure?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose, it’s best to get started with everything we have to wrap up now. A good distraction.”

“Well, if you need a distraction, I have one for you,” the statement, if she wasn’t feeling so down, would have gotten her laughing and cringing at the innuendo.

“I could use them. What do you need?”

“I need to procure some supplies for the Coin Guard that is being withheld by the transporter. It has already been paid for, but they state that they never received the payment. I am not exactly skilled in such matters, so some help would be appreciated.”

“Sounds like a perfect distraction, maybe we’ll find Constantin on the way.”

“It will likely not be that easy. The boy always manages to get into trouble.”

She laughed, “It’s one of his endearing traits.”

He snorted, likely in disbelief, but followed her as they made their way through the city. Silence between them was usually comfortable, but this time, there was too much on her mind and thinking made her want to cry once more. It was horrendous, this silence. Trekking their way through the city, her eyes always drifted behind them, to the palace. Both to the west wing and her mother’s quarters. It was too easy to picture the horrific and painful end. Scolding herself to get it together did little to stop the thoughts of her mother all alone as she took her final breath, and so the words slipped from her mouth. Both addressing what she was thinking and avoiding it by pushing it to someone else.

“Do you ever feel lonely, Kurt?”

His tone was sarcastic, eyes skeptical and cautious as though she were baiting him, “I always do. Why? Do you want to rectify it? I hadn’t meant that sort of distraction, but well…”

She was quick to shut it down, for his sake and her own, “That’s not what I meant.” If she came onto him, he take off in a sprint in the opposite direction, never to return. Regardless, she did not want to talk about why she asked him such a thing. “I hoped to have kept you good company for all these years. After all, we were always together.”

He was quiet for a moment, “And those are memories I hold dear. You have always been extraordinary,” his voice trailed off for a moment before he picked up pace again, “But I had to watch over you. You were my responsibility.”

‘Responsibility,’ she thought dully. ‘I have a responsibility to be there for my mother.’

“That did not leave us much time for,” he sighed, pausing for a long time as if to think about it, “friendship.”

His hesitation shocked her to the core, pulled her away from her depressive thoughts about her mother to something else entirely, “I know I have not always acted like it, but I always have considered you a friend. I can understand how your position made you see it differently. What about now though? I’m no longer a child, more of an equal.”

“Equal?” The tone of his voice confused her, he sounded flabbergasted, and she almost turned around to stare at him in confusion but wanted an answer more than , and he eventually, even more confused, “Now? I hope that we’ll have more time.”

“We are about to embark on a long journey with no foreseeable end, unless you wish it so. We’ll have all the time in the world to work on it.” He didn’t say anything in response, so her fingers pulled nervously at her tricorn. She didn’t want to talk about the meaning behind the conversation, but as a friend, she owed it to him to explain. She tried to ease into it, “I’m sorry if that seemed forward, I hadn’t meant to accost you.”

“It’s fine, Green Blood. I know you would never mean it in that way.”

She wanted to retort that, if she wasn’t so sad, she would of course mean it in such a way, but that would be avoiding what she owed him. Taking a deep breath, she spoke slowly, "My mother is going to die all alone, Kurt. She doesn’t deserve that, no one deserves that. What if she resents me leaving?”

“She wouldn’t. It isn’t good to keep everything bottled up.” Ironic considering he kept all real emotions under lock and key, short of his sometime friendly but impersonal jesting. He surprised her with his next words, “Forgive me for my crudeness. I responded inappropriately.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Kurt. You can’t be expected to read my mind, and it was hardly crude. I’ve heard far worse.”

He sounded incredulous, falling into her carefully placed trap, “From whom? Green blood, you don’t deserve untoward attention from deviants.”

Laughter slipped out, “Untoward attention from deviants? Your age is showing, Kurt. I’m not the lady you think I am. It’s hardly untoward if it’s welcomed and quite normal around those my age.” She turned her head to stare at him over her shoulder, and she could see the blush rise from his neck to his cheeks as it processed what she said.

“I’m not so old,” he protested weakly, avoiding her hint and her eyes.

“You always say you are!” Her head turned forward again, to allow him a moment.

“That’s because, in comparison, you and Constantin are but young striplings to me.”

“You are almost forty, Kurt. I’m almost thirty, I hardly think that ten years is a big difference.”

“Green blood, that isn’t how math works. You are rounding your age up almost by half a decade.”

“Technicalities, I rounded up a bit for you too though! I’m just saying, there isn’t that big a difference.”

“You’ve said that already. I get it, you’ve grown up. A big girl who can defend herself.”

She couldn’t help the tinge of bitterness in her laugh. “Do you really get it? I’m a woman, Kurt, not a girl. A woman.” The sigh behind her implied that he tired of her attempts to prove her adulthood, and she laughed once more, this time in good humor, feeling slightly better already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3
> 
> Updates will be sparse this week. I got things I gotta do and this has to go on the back burner. Will p/u probably round Mon again. Might get another chap out between then, but it will likely be a short bit. We gon meet Vasco next chapter.


	9. A Boat and Dress Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt meets Vasco. De Sardet gets Kurt to strip, but not in that way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited.

The Naut captain’s eyes wandered up and down her body as if sizing her up like another one of his sailors. It was an odd reaction considering he knew the two had met before, a preordained meeting. However the telltale blush that rose across her pretty face implied that maybe this meeting wasn’t kept as business oriented as usual. The bright red crept up from the opening of her shirt to her usually pale and delicate neck, all the way up to her soft cheeks. It was an odd look on her, flattering in more ways than one, but uncommon. He desperately did and didn’t want to know what caused such a reaction in his protégé. The closer the got to the sailor, the more it felt as though he were intruding on something personal, so he decided to seemingly redirect his attention elsewhere. Walking off to the edge of the pier, he watched from his peripherals as she approached the Naut captain, nodding her head in greeting. Their greeting seemed amiable enough, but not overly so, and for that he was thankful. Part of him stated that watching her was part of his duty, and the other half stated that he really ought to stop lying to himself. His interest was peaked, whether he wanted it to be or not, and like an unworthy and beaten mutt in the face of a bountiful feast, he was bound to drool at the sight. He was in her inner circle, closer to her than most though that didn’t mean much since she kept all at a distance. He should be grateful for even that, and not press, but this new onslaught of emotions, realizing what he wanted in life and bearing that to her, had made him, well, vulnerable to fickle feelings. Especially because, as much as he hated to admit it, he had no one else even though their relationship was strained at best.

‘_I’m pathetic,_’ he grumbled to himself, kicking the remnant of broken crate into the sea as he surveyed the two from afar. Their discussion continued for a few moments, but eventually the sailor’s eyes drifted almost lazily to him, staring him to up and down while speaking. He did not seemed impressed, but Kurt took it as an invitation to approach.

The irritation he felt concerning his own self pity couldn’t be hidden, “Did you have a question for me?”

De Sardet almost jumped out of her skin as he approached from behind her, he could see the flinch, and it would have been almost humorous if it wasn’t professional. Thankfully the captain didn’t seem to notice, but instead smiled as if he knew something they didn’t. Such certainty and superiority was infuriating. 

“No, soldier,” came the brogue, and he could feel the hint of irritation at it. The man was handsome for a sailor. All deep blue eyes, strong jawline, nice teeth, muscled, and poised. His eyes flickered to de Sardet, who stood staring at the other man, the blush beginning to appear again. He kept himself from scowling, but just barely. It couldn’t be helped that she was attracted to the other man.

“Ah, Vasco, this is Kurt, a captain of the Coins Guard.”

“And her master of arms and teacher,” he added gruffly though he wanted to smack himself for adding it pointlessly.

“Kurt, this is Captain Vasco. He will be taking us to Serene on his boat.”

The other man held his hand out, and he thrust out his own, grasping his hand firmly and reminding himself not to squeeze too hard because, for some reason that he refused to think about, he disliked the man.

“It’s a ship, de Sardet. Not a boat. A ship,” the sailor corrected, his accent lilting and teasing, as he smiled at the girl. If he squeezed the man’s hand a bit harder at his tone before letting go, he couldn’t help it.

Her voice was sheepish, a foreign note to him coming from her, “Forgive me, I forgot. His ship.”

“A seaworthy vessel, I suppose,” he said, examining the ‘ship’ from afar. He hoped his judgment of the ship was just as annoying as the Naut’s inspection of himself. He felt de Sardet tug his sleeve and could feel her scowl burning up at him. He refused to return the stare.

“More than just seaworthy, but I wouldn’t expect a foot soldier to appreciate such a beauty,” came the retort, but it didn’t hold much of a bite. In fact, the man was smirking.

‘_Condescending little prick_,’ Kurt hissed in his mind.

“Anyway, Vasco,” he hated the other man’s name on her lips, “Thank you for the advice concerning the cargo. I shall,” she paused, “be cautious in approaching such matters with the harbormaster.”

“It was my pleasure. Remember that we are leaving with the tide, so you’ll have to be quick. And I wish you luck with finding your cousin. Now, I have things to do before we depart. Thank you again for helping me with Jonas.”

“He’s a good boy, I was happy to help. We shan’t bather you anymore, gooday.”

The captain tipped his hat to her and nodded at him before growling orders at his crew members hustling around. De Sardet took the lead, walking away, and he followed in her shadow. Always in her shadow.

“So he can’t help us,” Kurt concluded.

“He can only do so much. I could have always tried to bribe him and his commanding officer, but likely would only offended him,” she replied with a halfhearted shrug, “But he gave me some useful advice with how to smuggle it.”

The idea of her smuggling things for him had his gut churning, “You know you don’t have to involve yourself in this, Green Blood. You’ve helped plenty enough with just securing it. I can handle it from here.”

She gave him a droll look, “Kurt, if you haven’t noticed, my uncle and aunt aren’t exactly the most scrupulous sort. Sure, they’ll scold me endlessly if we get caught, but they aren’t above underhanded methods. You aren’t corrupting me.”

He had heard the rumors about the happening concerning the princess and prince. Sordid tales of accidents occurring to those who opposed them. He wasn’t ignorant to it, but he didn’t believe that she was involved. The idea had his reeling backwards from his attachments to her. She read his face, the disgust that seemed to overtake him, and looked hurt.

Her voice was quiet, “I am not involved with their machinations, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m just saying I’m not some innocent little girl unaware of the evils in the word.”

He didn’t exactly feel guilty for thinking it, but he did feel guilty about the hurt, “If you needed to do such things, well. It’s politics. It’s expected.”

“You wouldn’t condone such behavior with all your talk of honor. I don’t,” came her huff, but she didn’t say anything more, and he didn’t want to offend her any further by lying.

They lapsed into silence, an uncomfortable pattern that was unusual for them. Then again, it wasn’t as though they were all that close as of late. As a child she clung to him, as a teen she began to separate herself slowly, hanging around a young lad from the Bridge Alliance, when the boy left, however, she had buried herself into work of all sorts, even going as far as to travel into the surrounding countries to learn. Of course, she would return between such journeys, always keen on checking in with her old teacher, but they were tepid, as she put it, ‘friends’ if even that -and oh he doubted that. He was no longer the gallant hero that she once thought of him in her youth, he knew it. He was just a man to her, an old one below her station. It was sad, knowing that she no longer looked up to him, but it was freeing as well, he supposed.

It was easy to drift into his thoughts as she led them to wherever she pleased. Oddly enough, however, she stopped before a door, testing the handle first before looking over her shoulder at him and whispering, “Keep an eye out won’t you?” He was confused until she dropped to her knees before the lock, little picks sliding from her sleeve.

It was hilarious to believe that a lady of the court learned such immoral hobbies, “Who taught you to pick locks?”

“No one, I’ve taught myself a bit. I’m not all that good, but well, we don’t have much of a choice now, do we?”

She was struggling, it was hilarious, as she tried to hold the tensor comfortably within her hand. He humored her for a moment, let her try to unlock the door. Occasionally she let out an annoyed huff, and soon it became too hard not to take pity on her, “Here, give me those.”

Her eyebrows drew together and she looked at him incredulously, but she handed them over, “You, mister honor guard, can pick locks?”

He waved her off, and she turned to watch their backs. How and why he learned to pick locks was an unsavory thought, so he pushed it to the back of his mind. “I was not always who I am now.”

“Well, I think I would have like to meet the old you. I can only imagine what sort of trouble a teen Kurt got into,” there was no judgment in her voice, and he was grateful for it.

It took him a only few seconds to get the pins to click into place, and with a twist, the door was unlocked. Her gleeful laughter made him smile softly, and her hand pressed into shoulder only made it widen. He handed over her tools, and they slid up into her sleeve somehow. Another glancing look over their shoulders, and they both slipped inside of the building.

“What are we doing in here?” Rarely did she do things without intention, but he hadn’t quite understood why they were breaking into a random storage building.

She didn’t answer him, just began to rifle through the chests there, so he locked the door and watched her carefully. Her mouth pursed in concentration as she flung this and that around. Eventually she seemed to find something that was about right, and she flung it in his direction.

“Put that on!” She didn’t even look up.

He was confused, looking at the ratty shirt he caught, “I didn’t know my uniform insults you so.” Regardless, he started unbuckling his belt and listening to her request.

“If you want, you can walk into Naut territory dressed up like a guard, but I don’t think they’d appreciate your snooping,” came her teasing tone, and she took a moment to meet his gaze, but they both looked away. Him in embarrassment, and her likely due to propriety’s sake. He tried to be as quick as possible in his stripping and soon he found a sailor’s coat at his feet. It was quiet, except for the sound of rustling clothes and her digging through the chests. As soon as he managed to completely strip out of his armor, she made a little noise in the back of her throat that seemed like she was satisfied. He could feel the burning of his face and ears.

‘_Is she pleased with me?_’ came the thought, but when he finally managed the courage to look at her thankfully she wasn’t staring at him at all. Instead, she held a threadbare white shirt in her hands and was examining it closely. Disappointment flitted in his mind, for a moment, unsure of what he really wanted. As if she could feel his stare, her gaze met his, and a blush rose on her face as her gaze drifted down for a second. She crumpled the shirt over her face.

“Sorry, that was impolite,” came her muffled voice as she turned her back to him.

The words were both for his and her sake, “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“I know, but it is rude to stare,” her statement had him redirect his own gaze as she began to pull off her own jacket. “And well, it’s embarrassing.”

He felt the need to speak the words, “I can step outside if you want to-”

“It’s fine. We still need to hide our clothes so no one finds them if they come in here.”

‘_Do not, under any circumstances, stare,_’ he commanded himself. He knew that if he even chanced a glance, the image would be ingrained in his head. He really needed to get out more often. Maybe meet a woman and work out this untoward stress. To be thinking of her in such a way was wrong. It must be because it had just been too long. He folded his uniform carefully, after arriving to the island, he would find a willing partner, then these ideas would fade back into his subconsciousness never to be disturbed again. Until then, he would think of the trusting green eyes of the child and his promise.

Her voice was quiet, unsure, “I’m decent. Well as decent as I could be. I still need to find a coat and a different hat. If I find the right thing, I can angle my head and they might not see my mark.”

He turned around and couldn’t help but examine her. The shirt was ill fitting, far too large for her lithe frame, but she had tucked it in to hide the fact. It was also almost see through, and he had to redirect his gaze once he saw the line of what he thought to be the wrappings around her chest. The hat she found had a wide brim that covered most of her mark when tilted to the side. Resuming to search through the remaining storage units, she refused to meet his eyes.

“There has to be a coat here that would fit me,” she complained quietly.

“Why don’t you just take the one that you gave me?”

“It would be too big. I don’t want to draw attention to us by just screaming, ‘I am playing dress up. I am NOT a Naut,’ with my outfit,” her voice was both teasing and annoyed. He managed not to snort as he helped her search.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems it is preordained that if I say I will post something by a certain time, I will post it late. Forgive me, I shall endeavor not to make promises I can't keep.   
As always, thank you for reading! :)


	10. Tackle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited as usual.

The bottle came flying at lightening pace, and pure instinct had her ducking. The sound of glass shattering on impact rattled out behind her, a curse accompanying it, but she was distracted as something blurred before her. Her reflexes failed her, arms coming up too late, and weight distributed on her heels, so she wasn’t prepared for the full body tackle that threw her against the wall. In one fell swoop, the air was knocked out of her and her vision flashed black as pain erupted across the back of her skull. Her brain shut down, lapsed, and all she wanted, all she needed to do, was curl up and prevent any further assault. That wasn’t possible, she had no control, no real thoughts. Vaguely she could feel her arms flailing, trying to scratch, hit or whatever, likely muscle memory, but there was no real force behind it. The point that it was ineffective and she couldn’t do a thing.

Something had her pinned, and she wasn’t sure whether it was the panic or the constant pressure that kept her from breathing. Just as her movements began to die down and she started to give up, the force keeping her back relented, allowing her to sag to the floor. Something caught her before she actually managed it, but it allowed her to curl up and hold her stomach and she tried urge along her breathing. At once, she seemed to be able to hear herself gasping, wheezing. If she wasn’t so terribly scared, she would have marveled at the revelation that, for a moment, she was deaf and didn’t notice it.

A voice was faint and garbled in the background, almost as though it were far away and under water, “That’s it. Breath.”

Her vision, unlike her hearing, slowly ebbed back, unfurling from the center and eating away at the blackness in the corners of her eyes. She could see her hands, shaking like leaves, and her chest rising and falling desperately. Her attention zoned into the movement, thinking of only breathing.

Desperation cried out, “Maelise! My god, Maelise, speak to me! Tell me you are alright. I didn’t mean to. Kurt, please don’t let her die! Are you okay? Maelise. Please, god, don’t take her from me!”

Anger responded, “Shut up!”

“Is she going to be alright? Dear god, that noise, Kurt! What was that awful noise?”

A calm voice cooed, “Just breath, greenblood. Good. That’s it. In and out, slowly.”

She tried to time her breathing with the voice. It wasn’t easy, her body rebelled and tried to gasp sharply, trying to get the air she was deprived, but her mind shut it down as logic demanded she listen.

‘Slowly, catch your breath.’

Desperation screamed again, “What happened?”

She lapsed, gasping again for a moment, and anger struck out, “You simpering, annoying little brat! You knocked the air out of her and threw her against the wall! What did you expect?”

“Those noises though!”

“She couldn’t breath but was trying to. Now shut up and sit over there. You’ll only attract attention of your captors.”

It was blessedly quite other than the soothing voice coaching her, and after she slowly began to breath almost normally, she began to look around. Her mind slowly caught her up with her surrounding.

Finally in some control she said, voice barely a whisper, “That hurt.”

“I can’t imagine it being a pleasant feeling or experience,” came his sarcastic response.

She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, and her gaze lingered on the man holding her. His stare was stormy, and he was wrapped around her, cradling her on the ground. He had caught her on her descent to the floor, it seemed. It almost appeared he was worried, but overall he looked relieved.

“You’re bleeding,” came the words before she even processed the revelation herself. Her hand grazed a cut along his cheekbone. It was shallow, superficial, but it poured freely.

“The bottle your idiot cousin tossed exploded on my vambrace. The pieces probably left me slightly less intact than before.”

“Will it scar?”

“Who knows? No matter, are you alright?”

“My pride is injured.”

“It shall live still, if it’s as big as I imagine.”

“Cruel man. Stamping upon a damsel in distress.”

“What a damsel indeed, with all the noise she made.”

“What?”

“You sounded like a dying cow when he tackled you. Quite horrific.”

“I- What?”

“A natural response when one can’t breath.”

He shifted her away to sit on her own, and she continued to breath slowly at her own instructions. When she felt a little better and less lightheaded, she managed a joke, “Do you cradle all dying cows as they wheeze?”

“Most cows can’t afford my rates. So you know, you sounded like one, not are one.”

“Good to know for future reference.”

“For future reference, you ought to pay me more.”

“Your reasoning?”

“This dying cow is heavy and hazard pay.”

“I thought I wasn’t a dying cow?”

“I’ve reconsidered my position.”

“How rude. I’ll have you know, I’d catch-”

Kurt deflected the blur from the corner tackling her once again, “Cousin! Forgive me!”

“You fool, you’ve already bruised and battered her-,” she silenced Kurt’s rant with a shaking hand held up. Constantin maneuvered around the guard, and pulled her into him. The irritated guardsman walked out of the room. Everything hurt, she was sure that her ribs were bruised, but she allowed him to hold her.

It was easy to assure him, her dear cousin, “There’s nothing to forgive, Constantin.”

Despite him holding her, trying to support her, he was shaking and freezing. Gingerly, she removed her arms from between them and wrapped them around him. He was safe, her troublesome cousin, always safe if she could just hold him. His hold on her was tight, but somewhat gentle as thought he truly didn’t want to cause any further harm. The thought was endearing, especially when he rested his head upon her chest as if to listen to her heartbeat. She sighed into his pale hair, stroking his back with her trembling fingers.

“I’m sorry, Maelise. If I had know-”

“I know, but you didn’t know. It was a sound escape plan. Brilliantly executed.”

“Hardly. I may have incapacitated you, but Kurt grabbed me and all but flung me like a rag doll once he realized I had you pinned.”

“Few men react as quickly as Kurt does, nor are they as strong.”

“I would have backed off as soon as I realized.”

“It’s fine, Constantin. Truly. There is no need to dwell.”

He pulled away enough to stare into her eyes, and when he confirmed the honesty of her words with that of her true feelings, he gingerly cupped her face in his hands.

‘Oh my sweet and gentle Constantin,’ she thought, meeting the tender look that overcome his face. “Don’t feel guilty. I could never find fault in your, dear cousin.”

At her words, his hands dropped limply and he moved to stand. The tender look in his face slipped away like water, and something else took over for just a moment. It was so brief that she almost thought she imagined it, but the look was so harshly imprinted on his face that she reconsidered. It was a vile look, almost akin to a deep loathing, and she desperately hoped he wasn’t blaming himself still.

When she moved to her own feet, he rushed to help her get up. Her head throbbed with the movement, and she’d likely have a lump that would last days, but at least now Constantin was safe at her side, where he belonged, so it didn’t matter.

“Will you be fine for a moment while I fetch Kurt?” His voice was so soft and sweet, and the tender look returned once more. She felt her heart clench. His hand brushed her hair back into place, and she nodded carefully. At her consent, he departed.

In but a few seconds, the two returned. The tension between the men was almost tangible, but neither spoke a word of anger. Kurt approached her slowly, holding her face in his hands. The action was confusing until he told her to follow his finger that he moved in front of her eyesight.

“Are you nauseous? Can you remember why we are here?”

“No. Obviously we were here to fetch Constantin after he went drinking.”

“You will be fine for now, but we will need to have you checked out by a doctor or healer before you leave. You shouldn’t fight, so we’ll have to sneak out again.” His hand slid to the back of her head, feeling for the lump, and she winced at the touch.

“I didn’t know you were an effective on the field medic.”

“I have some,” he paused for a moment, thinking and withdrawing all at once,” experience with dealing with some first aid. If you need your arm relocated, bones set, and the like, I can probably help.”

“Makes sense, I suppose. Though I think I’d prefer to stick with an actual doctor if you don’t mind.”

Constantin pitched in, “I’d prefer you wouldn’t need the help of a doctor at all.”

“She wouldn’t if she didn’t pointlessly endanger herself.”

“I get the job done,” came her defensive response.

Kurt’s tone was almost ominous, “But at what cost?”

She shrugged, the motion slightly painful, “Usually only at my own, but at least the job is done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! :) Dunno when the next chapter will be.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


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